


Missing

by ArraFrost



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Domestic Avengers, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Control, Superfamily, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArraFrost/pseuds/ArraFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter goes out one night to fight crime as Spider-man while Steve and Tony wait up for him... only Peter doesn't come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony re-entered the living room with a bowl big enough to hold three bags of freshly popped, extra butter popcorn and promptly noticed the empty space on the couch his son had occupied when he left.

“Peter?”

“Crime.” Steve answered without removing his eyes from the television screen currently playing an episode of Criminal Minds.

“Tell me. Why does our sixteen year old son get the privilege of fighting crime at anytime of day while we need to wait for SHEILD to call us in.”

“Because you blow things up.”

“Come on I don't-”

Steve turned his head, eyebrow raised with a look that had Tony's mouth shut before he could control his motor functions.

“And that!” Tony continued. “How do you do that? Just shut me up with a simple-”

The next look on Steve's face told Tony he wouldn't be getting any fondue for the rest of the week if he didn't stop rambling, sit down and let him finish the episode.  


\- - - - - - 

“J.A.R.V.I.S. time.” Steve glanced up at the ceiling after yet another Criminal Minds episode had rolled by. He could no longer take the correlation between his thoughts about his son and the contents of the television show.

“Quarter to midnight, sir.”

“Three hours, Steve. It doesn't take that long to get a cat down from a tree or give an old lady her purse back. Or even to stop a bank robbery, I've clocked it!”

“Tony, calm down. Peter can take care of himself, I'm sure the situation is under control.”

“Situation? How do you know there's a situation, Steve? Did you think of telling me that? What kind of-”

“Tony!”

Tony gritted his teeth defiantly. One thing he would not tolerate was his son in danger. Technically that was all the time, but usually the kid could handle it. They'd given him the best of training with his very own Pop, Tony had pimped out his suit as much as he could without encasing him in a bullet proof box.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. I want Barton and Romanoff on the phone now. Tell them we need eyes everywhere.”

“Yes, sir. Shall I inform SHEILD as well?”

“Not yet.” Captain beat him to the punch. “Keep this in the family for now.”

“I'm going to get my suit.” Tony was out the door before Steve had realized, but he caught up to him quickly, grabbing his elbow gently yet firmly.

“Tony, now is not the time for Iron Man.”

“My son-”

“Our son has only been gone for three hours. He has superhuman strength, speed, and more things than I'm sure even you or Banner could test for.”

“Well actually we've-”

Steve silenced him with a single expression. An expression that held two meanings. One said “I can't believe you're testing our son” and two, “Now is not the time for this conversation.”

“I have Clint Barton on the line, sir.”

“ _Little birdy flew the coup?”_

“You're one to talk, Hawk.” Tony snapped, anger taking over the normally friendly, sarcastic banter.

“ _Three hours since he's been gone?”_ Clint caught on to the tension immediately and thankfully did not provoke Tony further.

“He sensed a robbery nearby.” Steve informed.

“ _Greatly exceeds his average robbery time... We'll find him.”_ Natasha's line cut out as quickly as she joined the conversation. Steve knew her well enough now that after years of refusal to visit when Peter was young out of fear of harming him, Natasha was a protective aunt.

“ _What Tasha said. Don't worry Cap, Tony, we'll get eyes on the kid.”_

Steve titled his head, trying to force himself into his husband's line of sight once Clint hung up. “See Tony. They can handle this.”

“I need to be out there.” Tony's voice was harsh and desperate.

“Peter will be okay. Come sit down with me.”

Reluctantly, Tony let himself melt into Steve's embrace as he was led back to the living room. Tony's only contribution before allowing himself to curl up into Steve's lap was to switch the program on the television to a channel that predominantly played old silent films.

\- - - - - - -

“ _Cap?”_ Clint's voice came in without introduction from J.A.R.V.I.S. and Steve nearly bolted up from the couch if doing so wouldn't cause Tony to wake up non-too gently.

“Did you find him?”

“ _Is Tony with you?”_

Steve didn't like that response. He glanced down to the restlessly slumbering man on his lap. For an hour until now, he had been shaking a lot, fidgeting with his hands and tapping his fingers. The stress must have knocked him out, that and he knew for a fact that Tony hadn't slept much this past week save for the few hours he passed out on his couch in the lab.

“Not entirely.”

“ _Tasha found... well... Cap. It doesn't look-”_

“Barton.” His voice was quiet, in fear of waking Tony, but not soft. It was his firm tone of command that did not approve of dancing about the truth.

“ _We found his mask, Steve.”_

“What else?” Something in Clint's voice told him there was more, and though sometimes he didn't want to ask questions he didn't want to know the answer to. This time he had to.

“ _There's... there's a lot of blood.”_

Steve felt his blood run cold and he breath caught in his throat.

“ _We don't know if it's his yet but-_

“ _A DNA sample has been taken. We will have the results shortly.”_ Natasha's clipped reply came in. Her voice was entirely set to work mode, more-so than Steve had seen in their own Avengers missions. 

Breathing in deeply through his nose and keeping his eyes trained on Tony's sleeping pattern, Steve willed himself to speak again.

“Do you have a lead?”

“ _We don't know... there isn't much here to make sense of but we think-”_

“Thanks Clint. I'll have J.A.R.V.I.S. track your coordinates. We'll join you shortly.”

J.A.R.V.I.S., understanding of the Captain's tone as usual, took that as a sign to cut the line to the pair of assassins.

Tony shifted in his position on Steve's lap. Eyes open and incredibly awake. Steve stared down, anxiety prickling at the back of his neck as he absorbed everything behind those dark eyes.

“Put on the suit.”

Tony nodded, standing up too fast that Steve was sure a headache had hit him but Tony showed no signs of slowing down as he moved down the hallway to the stairs. Steve, instead of following, walked in the direction of his old room from when the Avengers used to all live here as it still contained his suit and shield.

“Captain, I have Mr. Barton for you.”

“Put him through.”

“ _Steve?”_

“Just me.”

Clint breathed in deep enough to cause Steve's hand to falter as he undressed and picked up the Captain America suit.

“ _We... well... we have a match.”_

Steve fumbled, he was trembling to such a degree that putting his suit on was becoming a challenge.

“ _It's Peter's.”_

The world went black for a moment and Steve found himself blinking at the carpet as he held himself up by his hands and knees. Before he could process anything else, he bolted. Straight down to Tony's lab.

The door opened and he saw the Iron Man suit in it's normal place where Tony suited up. Gently he reached out to touch it, to get Tony's attention when he noticed how empty it was. Glancing around frantically he spotted him, slumped on the floor against a desk, eyes wide and filled with panic.

Tony heard Steve's footsteps as he approached and Steve froze when Tony's eyes locked on him. The tears building up in his own eyes were staring back at him.

Instantly, Steve was on the floor with Tony. Hand shaking as they reached out to grasp Tony's shoulders. Tony's lip trembled as he looked at Steve, eyes pleading to tell him everything was a lie, that he hadn't heard everything that Clint had said over the phone.

Steve leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly against Tony's forehead. “We'll find him.” He whispered into Tony's ear, as confidently as his voice would allow.

“Promise?” Tony croaked, tears already breaking over his husband's shoulder.

The Captain nodded firmly, but Steve wasn't so sure that everything was going to all right this time.


	2. Chapter 2

“Tony...” Steve whispered into his husbands ear, carefully pulling him to his feet. “We have to go, Tony.”

The air of the room was suffocating them despite Stark Tower's premium air filtration system. Nothing made sense anymore for the two fathers. All that could be said between them was their determination, their need to find their son and bring him home.

“ _Sir, I've programmed the coordinates Agent Barton gave me into Captain Roger's motorcycle.”_

Tony breathed heavily over Steve's shoulder, holding him tightly and unable to respond to Jarvis despite every cell in his body screaming for him to get in the Iron Man suit and take off.

“Thank you, Jarvis.” Steve spoke softly, nodding as he ran down their plan in his mind. They would suit up, they would go their separate ways to their teammates' location, even though Steve wasn't sure he could stand being away from Tony right now. They were both in pain and Steve was worried one of them was going to do something stupid but they were required to keep a level head right now and get back into the mission, for Peter's sake.

Steve felt Tony's fingers grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in to the point where they might actually have a chance of breaking skin this time. When Tony pulled away, his eyes were dark, glazed and Steve wasn't sure who he was looking at for a moment.

“Let's get our son back.” His voice was low, determined and the murderous intent sent a chill down Steve's spin. As much as he wanted to find their son and destroy anyone involved with the spilling of Peter's blood, revenge through murder was something else entirely.

Quickly, Steve grabbed Tony before he could move away and forced dark eyes to meet his own. “Tony? Are you with me?”

“We're getting out son back, right now Steve.” Tony growled, the hostility in his gaze intensifying.

Steve didn't let up, he refused to let his husband go. “Are you here?” And Steve didn't say it, but attached to that were all the implications that Tony would read. Was he in a sensible frame of mind right now? Would he follow orders and get the job down without risking too much? Could Steve trust to leave him on his own in the Iron Man suit?

It took Tony a moment, a few inhales to ease him back just enough. “Yeah, Cap. I'm here.”

Steve stared into his eyes, searching until he found the truth and nodded. “Good. Let's find our son.”

“That's what I was trying to tell you,” Tony smirked, but he couldn't fool Steve the way he could fool others into believing he was all right. Steve smiled back sadly, nodding once. Leaning forward, Steve pressed a brief, tender kiss on Tony's lips before pulling away and heading back for his shield. Tony watched as his husband ran, biting his tongue as he steadied himself and stepped onto the platform to suit up.

\- - - - - - -

“Do you really think it's a good idea for them to come here?” Clint asked, looking around at the wreckage. It was clear there had been a struggle what with some of the walls falling in around them and the blood on the floor.

“We should go to the roof. Best to keep Tony away from here.” Natasha answered briskly, already headed toward the fire escape. Steve could deal with walking up the stairs, it wasn't that much of a work out for him. Tony, on the other hand... she didn't want to risk what would happen if Tony actually saw his son's blood in more than one location in the room.

“How are we going to find him, Tasha? There's nothing here. We've swept the area and-”

“There's always a way. We will get Peter back.”

“It's not right, Tash.” Clint growled, close on her tail as they ascended the stairs. “He's only a kid. We shouldn't have to worry about him like this. He shouldn't be in danger right now.”

“But he is.” She snapped, her voice echoing in the stairwell but she didn't turn around or slow her pace. Exhaling audibly, she willed herself to compose herself once again. “At least he has us to worry about him and he knows we'll find him.”

“What if he's-”

“He's not.” Her tone left no room for argument as they continued their journey to the roof. Natasha's eyes kept firmly ahead of her and her mind focused on two tasks. Finding Peter and killing whoever

took him.

\- - - - - - -

The world was too bright and tilted on too great an angle when consciousness decided to knock on his head with a lead hammer. The spinning didn't help center himself either. He was sitting on a chair, his hands were restricted, and he wasn't wearing his Spider-Man mask, that was the extent of his knowledge.

Peter's eyes blinked rapidly, trying to take in the space, the heavy feeling in his body, the dryness of his throat and the dizziness in his head, from the probable blood loss he was feeling. Everything felt numb and a searing pain jolted through his body every other second. It was not the best waking up he'd ever done in his life and there was the time Clint had taken him out to his first strip joint; he got unbelievably plastered. Woke up the next morning with little memory, the worst stomach ache he could imagine and the inability to hold his head up. Tony called it immediately and Steve made sure to ground him for an appropriate amount of time but not before chewing Barton out over the phone and making him listen to old time music... loud old time music. Peter wasn't sure if he'd ever touch alcohol again... today was so much worse than that.

“Can't keep your eyes open?” A mouth was awfully close to his ear and Peter shied away, the voice too loud and too near, causing spikes to travel through his ear canal.

Peter willed his eyelids to open faster, instead they continued to flutter wildly, only allowing him small slivers of glances at the space he was in.

“Too bad. The grand reveal will have to wait.”

Peter heard footsteps and he rolled his head in attempts to follow them. His body was drained, his breathing exhausted, but with his ears working in over drive, he could hear that when the door slammed shut and the foot steps faded down the hallway that he was alone... where ever he was. Sighing, he let his head fall forward again. As much as he wanted to look around and analyze his location, find some way to contact anyone or formulate a plan of escape, his consciousness had other plans for him. Cozy, dark plans that didn't require him to waste any of his precious energy.

\- - - - - - - -

“ _Sir, there is a phone call for you.”_ Jarvis displayed the incoming call for Tony to see but he wasn't focusing on the screens right now. Tony was looking straight ahead, possibly not at the space in front of him but at an imaginary destination that he had to reach.

“Unless it's my son or my husband. I couldn't give two shits about who's calling.” He growled, imagining some bullshit meeting for Stark Industries or Director Fury wanted to know exactly why the majority of the team was assembling without an approved mission.

“ _The call appears to be untraceable, sir. There is too much interference even for me at the moment._ ”

That made Tony pause. There were few phones Jarvis was incapable of tracing at the snap of his fingers, he'd programmed him that way. “Answer the call.”

The line was silent for a good length of time and Tony was nearly fed up enough to growl into the phone and threaten whoever it was who was calling him when he could practically hear a sneer on the other line.

“Mr. Stark.” The voice sounded twisted, insane, verging on sadistic. Clearly male and not someone Tony was familiar with.

“That's right, what can I help you with?” He was keeping it on the safe side. He had his suspicions for why exactly this person was calling him but he couldn't jump the gun just yet, even though that was precisely what Tony was good at.

“I know where your son is.”

A pulse ran through Tony's veins, red flashing in his eyes as he attempted to reign in the imminent desire to blow a hole in the buildings he was flying over. “And by that you mean: 'I have your son and I'm trying to play it off as though I'm a friendly informant who might be able to deliver your son without any complications when in actuality I'm going to snatch that hope away because I'm a sadistic bastard who gets off on watching other people suffer.'”

“Now now, Mr. Stark. No need to be so hostile.” The man chided him, clicking his tongue as though he was dealing with someone who was immature and irrational.

“You took my child. You'll be lucky to see the inside of a jail cell, but that's only if someone else gets to you first.”

“So you'll kill me and Captain Rogers will spare me. What an interesting couple you two make.”

Tony growled through his teeth, unimpressed with the taunting of this man. He was in no mood to banter with this villain.

“Tell me, Mr. Stark. Why is your son called Peter Parker? Was it an attempt to keep Peter from becoming a target for those out to find the weakness of Tony Stark and Captain Rogers? That plan must have failed drastically when Peter became his own target as Spider-Man. Furthermore, why did Rogers keep his surname as well? Is there an underlying message perhaps? No one can truly love the famous Tony Stark can they? They'll all leave you in the end, isn't that right?”

“Give me your location and I'll tell you the reason to your face. Blunt force trauma to the head should give you a few of the answers you're looking for.”

“Come now, Mr. Stark. Violence isn't going to keep your son alive.”

Tony's fists gripped so tightly he could hear the metal scrape against itself. He could practically taste the metal as he prepared himself to fire everything he had at the innocent statue he flew past. “Don't you dare lay a finger on my son.”

“Is that your worst fear, Mr. Stark?” The man was grinning, Tony could hear it, how pleased he was with himself for working up Iron Man, for getting the better of Tony Stark.

“You don't have a very high value for your own life.” Tony snarled, imagining the several ways he could rip out this man's vital organs.

“What I value is not up to debate, Mr. Stark. The amount of time your son has left to enjoy his life, however, is. Your brave Captain America has been given the coordinates of the building in which your son is being detained. Do find us fast and mind the traps.”

The line went dead before Tony could respond with another threat on the man's life. “Jarvis. Steve. Now.”

“ _Already dialing, sir.”_

Sure enough, Tony glanced to the top right corner to see Steve's picture as the call was waiting to go through.

“Tony! I have-”

“Peter's location, I know. Tell me.”

Steve rattled off the address, not having to be prompted again upon hearing the desperate tone of his husband's voice and the built up aggression that was clearly making itself heard. “Tony what happened?”

“I got a call from someone who isn't going to be alive for much longer if I have my way.”

“The woman holding Peter hostage?”

“So there's two of them. Wonderful.”

“We know where Peter is now, Tony. We'll find him and bring these two to justice. I'm going to call Natasha and Clint, they're closer than us right now, they could get there first.”

“Right. See you there.” Tony spoke quickly, hanging up before Steve could check to make sure Tony wasn't going to do anything rash because in all honesty... that's exactly what he was planning on doing. His team better hope Clint and Natasha got their first and got them far out of Tony's range, if not... it was not going to be a pretty sight for the crime scene investigators.

\- - - - - - -

Peter shouted incoherently as the freezing water brutally shocked him into consciousness. He shook violently from the cold as he pried his eyes open, breathing heavily through his mouth.

“Couldn't have you sleeping away your daddy's big entrance could we little spider?” A strangely familiar voice woke Peter out of his daze, encouraged him to focus his mind that much sooner. Where had he heard that voice before? Who was in the room with him and apparently behind him because through his blurry vision Peter could tell that the space before him was empty.

“Tick tock, tick tock. Daddy, Papa, Auntie and Uncle. Oh it's going to be the best family reunion, Pete. Except Uncle Thor and Uncle Bruce, off on their own expeditions of being a prissy blonde god on his own planet and a raging green scientist who gets special trips overseas. Only us now, spidey.”

Peter shook his head, forcing himself into full awareness and the ability to turn his head. He didn't have to gain complete motor functions however, because his captor was now moving in front of him, a wide smirk spreading across his lips when the blood drained from Peter's face.

“Surprised, Petey?” The mercenary grinned significantly as Peter gaped, clearly unable to process what he was seeing.

Blinking, trying to make the image go away and replace him with someone sensible, something that was the least bit logical failed every time. This was happening and he was there. “Wade?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Wade... what are you doing?” The words came out of Peter's mouth slowly, cautiously. He knew his friend's morals were questionable – and by questionable he meant Wade had a considerable lack of morals. But beating him up, kidnapping him... this wasn't the Wade he knew... at least not the Wade Peter  _thought_  he knew.

“We're having a little bonding time, us.” Wade grinned, an sadistic leer in his eyes that Peter recognized from missions they'd done together. Those times when Peter had to web Wade to a wall or a ceiling to keep him from killing the person he was getting information out of.

“No, Wade. You kidnapped me.”

“Kidnapped, borrowed, hired to kill, it's all the same really when you grind it down with a grinding machine, or a grinding wheel, or a meat grinder. Makes a nice taco, or maybe a meatloaf, I could go for a sloppy joe.”

“You were hired to kill me?” Peter skipped the ridiculous rambling Wade tended to go on until it made literally no sense and was miles away from the original topic and went straight to the part that made Peter's blood run cold.

“I'm hired to kill a lot of people.” Wade stated simply with a shrug, as though it were no big deal that he was talking about murdering one of his only friends.

“But me? Wade? Why did you take the job.”

“Well... I get paid, I get to use pointy thing, they gave me a table full of chimichangas – I mean look at them, the exquisite texture and that enchanting aroma.” Sure enough, there was a table of chimichangas on Peter's left, against the wall. And there were a lot of chimichanga, of all shapes and sizes and various fillings from what Peter could make out.

Peter shook his head. He felt like he was having an aneurysm out of sheer stupidity, which was the usual reaction to Wade Wilson logic. The amount of energy he was putting in to trying to understand and communicate with Wade was taking a toll on his already exhausted and beaten body.

“Don't take it personally, Pete. Job's a job and chimichangas are undeniable. Want one? Too bad! Can't have one. They're all mine.”

“I don't want your burritos, Wade! I want you to let me go!”

“No, no, no. See that would make no sense.”

“You make no sense!” Peter exclaimed.

“Oh don't glare at me like you're going to unfriend me on facebook. I can't let you go or I'd lose the chimichangas!”

Peter inhaled deeply as he tried to calm himself down only to find his anger rising uncontrollably. “If you were ever my friend, Wade, you'd release me and turn in the people who hired you!”

\- - - - - - - - -

“Is this the building?” Clint stared up at the old office building that clearly hadn't been active in over a decade. It was always these run down places. He honestly didn't know where the bad guys kept getting them or why they hadn't been bulldozed or renovated by now.

“That's what it says.” Natasha didn't need to glance down at the coordinates Steve had sent them, she had already memorized it but she allowed Clint to peer over her shoulder to double check.

“Guess so... we should get up there before Stark gets here. Maybe give them a chance at high security prison?”

Natasha's gaze darked as she stared up, analyzing their best route of infiltration.

“Tasha? You're here right?”

“Where else would I be, Barton?”

A firm grasp on her shoulder pulled her attention back to the ground. “I want them dead as much as you do, Nat. Peter might not be an Avenger but he's been part of the team since the day Steve and Tony adopted him. And someone taking him is a shot at all of us. But right now I need you to focus on Peter, saving him, not avenging him because like you said, he's not-”

“Right.” Natasha cut him off, sighing as she ran her hand through her hair. All she wanted was to go in with murder written across her face, but she could put that aside for now, until Peter was rescued and then she'd be fighting with Tony over the rights to commit murder. “I'm here, Barton. They only go down if they're a threat.”

“Good.” Clint sighed, letting his hand fall to his side. “Shall we?”

\- - - - - - - -

Wade took a bite of a chimichanga, savoring it, practically making love to the delicious deep fried burrito that he'd longed to taste and getting distracted before he finally reopened his eyes and focused on Peter. “I... what was I saying?”

The injured, tied up young man glowered darkly, his words were forced through his gritted teeth. “You were going to release me, because you're my friend.”

“Ah! See that doesn't work, Pete.”

“Why the fuck not Wade?”

“Because you were never really my friend were you? Or rather... I was never your friend. It's a whole thing called deception! Fun innit?

“What?”

“I  _played_  you Spidey! You're new and desperate for friendship because in reality, you're a loser at school. And even someone as demented as me is good enough for you because you're really not in the place to argue with friends are you?”

Once again, Peter did not know what Wade was talking about but this time... it actually hurt, because some of it made sense. “You...”

“Aw you look like I ran over your puppy. Which I might have if you had a puppy... Oh well. Maybe your fate would have turned out differently if this author actually shipped spideypool but unfortunately, I'm going to have to kill you. Might even use my M-16 with laser sighted scope, oh my god I love that gun.”

Wade chuckled at Peter's expression, the betrayal he was feeling certainly wasn't hidden and the merc appeared to take pleasure in it. “What? You didn't think anyone actually liked Peter Parker for his personality did you? You're the son of Tony Stark, Iron Man and Captain America. That must have been one sexy threesome. People in your life, only using you to get to them kiddo. Even Spider-Man isn't worthy enough to have his own villains, you know they only attack you to get to the Avengers.

“Shut up.” Peter spoke lowly, his eyes unfocused, his breathing heavy.

“Really, Pete? You actually thought you were somebody? No one is ever going to notice you when you're in the shadow of your fathers. Only way to get out of that is to take up a different line of work. Maybe turn to evil so that way the press you do get is bad – oh wait! You already have that! You work your ass off to save people and the newspapers still write you as a villain! Why do you even try Pete?”

“Fuck you, Wilson.”

“Ouch, Pete. Last names? That hurts me right in the tender fleshy bits.”

“You're an asshole.” Peter growled, finally seeing Wade for what he truly was and refusing to back down, to play along, or be intimidated by him.

Wade smirked, pulling out a handgun and cocking it. “And you're a corpse.”

\- - - - - - - -

“Tony? Tony!” Steve shouted into his phone after his husband clearly hung up on him. The words ' _don't do anything rash, Tony'_ had been right on Steve's lips, ready to fall onto Tony's ears.

No answer. Steve cursed under his breath. Tony was going to do something stupid which was precisely what the genius was good at. Why couldn't he use that intellect all the time and not only when it was convenient for him?

The motorcycle skidded to a stop outside an abandoned office building he'd been give directions to by the woman on the phone. Steve still had chills from how disturbed her voice left him. She didn't sound reasonable or even human for that matter. The taunting, the threats that sounded more like promises or events that had already happened. It almost made Steve doubt that there was a chance of finding his son in his building.

Breathing deeply, the Captain strapped his shield to his arm and prepared himself. He had to get in there, find Peter, and get to the people that did this before Tony found them, there was no question about that.

\- - - - - - - - -

The rooms were dark, cold, smelled like something had died several times over and worst of all empty. Clint and Natasha were having no luck in finding any form of life... or otherwise... in the building.

“I'm beginning to think we've been had...” Clint whispered as they crept down the hallways, backs against the walls, eyes everywhere. “What if this is all a trap?”

“Then you need to be quiet or they'll hear us.” Natasha snapped back in a hushed voice. Despite her determination and need to find her nephew, the doubt was beginning to creep into her mind as well. It was eerie how quiet this building was for being so unoccupied. She should be able to hear some form of life, movement, considering they'd explored every other floor except this one and the two floors above it. The building was void of life and furnishings, she should be able to hear something to signify the villain's or Peter's presence.

Each room they secured on this floor was the same as all the rest. Tasha almost wanted to skip the search and head straight to the top floor where villains always kept the hostages but this was protocol. Peter wasn't a normal hostage and she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she skipped over the room he was being held in because she wanted to go on a vendetta.

“He's not on this floor Tasha, let's head to the top.”

“We don't know that Clint. They're after us, not Peter by the looks of it. The top floor is probably a trap and if that's the case, they might have hidden Peter on a lower level, not expecting us to search for him anywhere else.”

“And what if they did expect that? What if searching these rooms is going to spring a trap? We should just keep going.”

“Not until we find Peter.” Natasha refused to give in, she knew she was on the verge of being unreasonable but... in the off chance they didn't find Peter on the top floor, she needed to know that she searched literally everywhere else for him. She was going to be one hundred percent sure of whether he was or wasn't in the building – and if he had been, she would find evidence to that and a lead on where they could go next.

“Tasha.”

“Barton. If you want to go to the top floor, go. No one's stopping you.”

Clint stopped, watching her throw open another door and waited for her to finish surveying before he moved forward and touched her arm. “Tasha, come on. I'm worried about him too and all the fears you're feeling right now...”

Natasha ignored him, pulling away and continuing down the hallway. Peter's questionable life span was not up for debate or discussion right now.

“Nat, I'm with you. I'm not leaving you. So... let's just hurry okay?”

She glanced over her shoulder, eyes softening as they fell on his comforting smile. Her nod was heavy and her sigh was loaded, but she carried on confidently as always.

The next door appeared to be the main office of the floor, if there were ever a place, it would be in the biggest most secure office... although there were sure to be bigger ones on the next two floors. Either way, Natasha swung the door open and stepped in, guns aimed and ready to shoot any hostiles. Like the rest, however, the room was absent of human life. Yet this room still held its furniture. An old mahogany desk, a bookcase, a couple chairs and a plant pot on the windowsill with dirt that hadn't been watered in what looked like years.

“Next floor, Barton.” Natasha announced, sighing as she moved to exit the room but Barton stopped her.

“Hold up,” His eyes narrowed in on the wall behind the desk, able to see things other people usually didn't. Moving closer, his fingers traced the wall before touching a brick that was a couple inches further in than the rest. It appeared to be a makeshift handle. He hard against it and felt the bricks move.

“Hidden door... what sort of business was this?” Natasha mumbled to herself, observing as the wall started to reveal the sliver of a door frame.

“Yeah and it feels like it hasn't been opened in decades. Give us a hand.” He grunted as he pushed harder, getting another inch. Immediately, Natasha was there next to him and within minutes they'd managed to wrestle the door open to give them barely enough room to enter.

Peering into the darkness, Natasha and Clint both went for the perspective lighting equipment, Natasha switching to her pistol with a tactical light and Clint using a new lighting installment Tony added to his bow last week.

Cautiously, they entered the room, taking either side of the wall and scanning the darkness for signs of life. When they hit the opposite walls, they were surprised to find the space to be incredibly narrow and turned to look at one another before they each nodded forward to progress down what appeared to be more of a tunnel than a room.

The sliver of light behind them from their entrance was starting to fade as they kept moving, weary that the floor might fall out from under them. Clint was beginning to regret the amount of horror movies he watched because this was definitely the scene where the door was going to close on them and leave them with blood thirsty demons or vengeful Japanese spirits.

Natasha's voice hitched as her light shined along the floor and Clint's eyes were drawn in, centering on the spots of notably fresh blood in Natasha's spotlight. She glanced over at him, staring at him through the darkness and although he returned her look and tried to comfort her, he shined his light further ahead. It followed a small trail of blood splatter until it shinned on feet. Red feet with black detail.

“No...” Tasha gasped, the light shaking slightly in her hand.

Forcing himself, Clint raised his light, illuminating the slumped over form of their nephew and the bullet hole against his temple.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter didn't break eye contact the closer Wade moved. He stared down the barrel of his gun without flinching, his expression only getting deadlier. He refused to be intimidated. His head was forced to tilt as Wade pressed his gun directly against Peter's temple, pushing hard enough to make Peter want to wince.

“BANG! Just kidding.” The mercenary smirked as he sauntered away, having gotten enough pleasure out of causing Peter to flinch. He twirled his gun around on his forefinger, leaning against the chimichanga table and tossing another piece into his mouth.

“Just get on with it, Wade.” Peter snarled. His patience with Wade's mind games was running thin.

“Can't do that just yet... but I will have to knock you out.” In a few steps he was already standing next to the young hero again. “Nighty, night.”

Peter felt the blunt impact of the gun against his head before falling forward against his restraints and passing out.

\- - - - - - - -

“Peter... no...” Natasha stumbled forward, kneeling in front of the limp, cold body. She lifted his chin, inspecting his face and reaching for his pulse. Facial recognition confirmed it was her nephew and the significant lack of any movement of blood through his veins confirmed the worst.

Clint steadied himself, punching the wall and bruising his knuckles before moving to Natasha and gripping her shoulder tightly. She was actually shaking, tears threatened her eyes and this was too much to bare.

“How could this happen?” Gently, as she stroked Peter's lifeless cheek, she pulled him closer into an embrace.

“They did this long before we got here, Tasha... there was nothing we could have done.”

“We could have gotten here sooner, Clint! We could have tracked him before Tony and Steve got those calls! We could have stopped him from being Spider-Man!”

“None of that's true! Especially the last one. We all wanted to convince him not to put on the mask but it's Peter. He's as head strong and stubborn as both his fathers. It was who he was and he saved a lot of lives Tasha.”

“I know that, Clint!” Natasha cried. “But I should have been here to protect him... I told him I'd always be there... that we'd all always find him and... we failed.”

Taking a breath, the grip on Clint's bow tightened as he stared down into the darkness. “Let's get him out of here.” He gazed to the small sliver of light still emanating from the secret entrance.

Natasha could barely bring herself to stand, but somehow, like every time she was exhausted from battle, she gathered up some secret stash of strength and lifted Peter's body into her arms as she rose.

Clint nodded to her, stroking her shoulder before leading the way out of the long, narrow room.

Natasha continued, eyes forward, never turning back even as they exited the room and she carried on without Clint through the office and into the hallway. Taking a second look back, Clint closed his eyes as he exited the office, slamming the door shut much too loudly as he followed at a slow pace.

Neither of them heard the amused laughter from the room behind them.

“They've fallen for it.” The female turned with a satisfied grin.

“As predicted.” The man smirked, eyes fixed on the office door the two assassins had exited.

“How long before they realize they're mourning a dummy?” She asked, moving casually to sit in the only chair in the center of the room.

“With our minds combined not until we say they can. They hadn't noticed anything, not us in the room waiting for them or the fact that they were standing still the entire time. They'll continue with this little... fantasy for as long as we wish.”

“You make a good point, dear brother. Our power is unmatched.”

“Do you think we went too easy on them?” He asked as he moved to the only door in the room, holding it open for his sister. “We could have maimed Peter more, even decapitated him.”

“We must stick to the plan,” She stood up from the chair and smiled at her brother as she passed him, her hand caressing down the length of his arm, “No need to go overboard.”

“Yet.” He finished the sentence, causing them both to chuckle sadistically as he followed his sister from the small corner office.

“Let us return, I believe Mr. Wilson has more... quality time with our dear Peter Parker.”

\- - - - - - - -

“Ugh! Fuck!” Peter groaned as a hard slap to the face startled him back into cognizant thought.

“Language, Spidey! What would your adoring fans think?”

“I'm going to die I don't think they'll care.” Peter coughed, squinting up at his captor whom he once called his friend.

“Petey, Peter, Pete, may I call you Greg?”

Peter stared up blankly at Wade who could only have grown more insane in whatever time had passed while he was unconscious.

“Would you like some coffee? We have this wonderful hazelnut blend that I think you'd go nuts for!” Wade smiled wide, gazing down at Peter as though he was waiting for Spider-Man to laugh at his incredibly bad pun.

Peter continued to merely stare at him with a blank expression, refusing to appease Wade's desire to get a rise out of the young Spider-Man.

“I can see this is getting boring for you, so why don't we just skip to the main event?”

“Color me not interested.”

“Are you sure? It's quite explosive and I do mean that in the 'people-go-BOOM' kind of way.”

“Oh. Please. Do go on. I am so very eager to hear it.” Peter's flat, disinterested voice echoed in the small, empty room.

“You should be. I know how much you respect your Daddy and Papa.”

Peter's eyes narrowed, his attention suddenly sparked.

“There he is. The brave and ever vigilant Spider-Man. What? You didn't think your daddies would come after you? Especially when they were given the location of our little love shack?” Wade put his gun to his ear, miming it to be a phone. “Captain Rogers, sir? Mr. Stark. Peter and I have decided to run away and get hitched. Just us, some bondage and a classy Elvis impersonator. We'd love to have your blessing.”

“You're bluffing.”

“Am I Pete?” Wade turned his head in all angles, glancing around the room, taking it the absences. “I guess you're right, the King is no where in sight.”

Peter growled, growing steadily more impatient. “You don't have my fathers, Wade. Capturing them is a hellova lot more complicated than getting Spider-Man.”

“That's why I haven't captured them and I don't plan on it.”

“Then why bring them up?”

“Because I think you'll want to see their grand entrance. Two fathers, blessed with super powers, here to save their little boy from tremendous peril!”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilson.”

“Touchy!” Wade chided, waving his gun in Peter's face. “Not the best attitude when someone's taking you out to dinner and a movie.”

Peter's eyes shifted at that to the now empty table.  _“You_  had dinner. Enough dinners to feed a small country.”

“No one can deny the allure of a chimichanga.” Wade shrugged, tossing his gun nonchalantly in the air before catching it again.

“Clearly not.”

“So what movie does my beloved want to see? The new Iron Man film or perhaps Captain America? Oh I know! How about the one with both of them where they land on the roof of this very building because while you were out, we got footage of them coming this way?”

“What about the new film where Wade Wilson gets shot in the face like every traitor deserves.”

“Traitor's a bit strong. I'd go with double agent. Sounds sexier.”

“Doesn't change what you are.”

“And doesn't change that your daddies are on our roof.” As he spoke this, Wade moved forward, pulling a gray curtain off the ceiling and uncovering a layout of computers and screens directly in front of Peter. The footage on the screens showed various angles of the roof and the movements of Tony, clad in the Iron Man MK VI armor, lowering Captain America onto the roof before landing himself.

“How do I know that's this roof?” Peter asked, not giving into Wade's intimidation techniques.

“You'll know... soon.” Wade grinned as they watched the footage.

Steve adjusted his shield, removing it from his arm and preparing himself as they moved toward the entrance to the stairwell. Iron Man followed, stepping lightly until he moved to the center of the roof, looking down as though he could scan through the entire building.

“Wait for it...”

Peter's eyes jolted to Wade, he did not like his tone... not that he had enjoyed anything else that had come out of the merc's mouth since he got to this horrid little building.

Captain America's hand settled onto the doorknob and it was at that moment that Wade decided to lean over and type a command of sorts onto one of the keyboards. The door opened slightly and Peter's eyes widened as a spark rose from behind the door. It wasn't a second before the spark expanded and his father was surrounded in flames that shook the entire building. Peter would have looked up as the room around his shook violently but his gaze could not be torn from the explosion that engulfed his father. Tony had turned and tried to get there in time but Wade's fingers typed once again as the explosion set off more around his fathers. As Wade pressed the last of his button, Peter was able to glimpse a few missiles from one of the camera angles that were aimed directly at his fathers.

Peter stared in disbelief, his mouth agape, tears filling his eyes and all the air forced from his lungs.

The building continued to vibrate but Peter didn't notice anything until the explosions subsided and the smoke began to clear.

“Let's get a close up, shall we?”

Peter didn't hear him, didn't glower at the impressed smirk on the merc's face. He simply stared though the screens, as though he was actually on that roof with his fathers. The camera zoomed over Steve's limp body, the injuries unlike anything Peter had seen on his father before... like multiple missiles had hit him close range. Parts of the missiles were protruding from his body and Peter had to control his gag reflex as he let out an anguished cry.

“One daddy down... where's the other one... Oh! Look at that! Light's still on but is anybody home?”

The camera had panned over before settling on the stiff armor laying awkwardly over the rubble of half a wall. The circular light of the Iron Man armor blinked rapidly, trying desperately the hang on, to reboot its systems but Peter could tell from the pieces of the armor that had been blasted off and the parts that looked like it had warped so violently that it was no piercing his father's body... The light faded slowly, blinking once more into full power before it cut out completely.

Peter was breathing so heavily at this point that he was practically sobbing aloud, the tears streaming down his face didn't help but he wasn't concerned with keeping his composure at this point.

“Killer special effects right? Don't you love these kind of movies that are based on real life events? I mean they're so vivid like we're watching it happen in the moment! Oh wait... we did! Cause I blew them up with fancy fireworks!”

Wade turned around, head tilting as he took in the pathetic appearance of the young Peter Parker, the once brave and heroic Spider-Man reduced to a trembling form. Tears pouring freely as he cried silently, eyes staring past Wade to the screens behind him that had zoomed out to display both bodies.

“Good guys always lose, Pete. If you want to survive that kind of fate, come over to our dark side. Villains have more fun and well, we do the blowing up.”

Very slowly, Peter lowered his gaze to the floor, shaking his head as he tried desperately to process what he'd just seen but... he couldn't do it. Nothing about what he saw made sense and nothing could ease the numbness spreading through his body.


	5. Chapter 5

“Come on, little buddy. We could team up, be partners again. Only this time… instead of me wanting to be like you… you should strive to be more like me.”

Wade stalked around Peter’s chair, hands landing on his shoulders and gripping tightly. “Heroes die. We bad guys, however… honestly how many times have you seen me die? Okay right, I die a lot  _but_ I always come back from them! Captain America and Iron Man, daddy and papa… not so lucky this time around.”

“I’ll  _never_  be like you, Wilson.” Peter growled deeply, stiffening his shoulders. Had he more strength he would have shaken the merc’s hands off.

“Pal, buddy, partner!” Wade moved around to kneel in front of Peter and roughly grabbing his chin, forcing him to look up. “I have the best plan and you need to hear it. What we do, is go after and kill the person that murdered your daddies.”

Peter’s eyes darkened significantly. “That was you who did that, Wilson.”

Wade shrugged, pushing Peter’s face away as he paced in front of him. “Well technically, but I was  _paid_ to do it. So in all fairness, it’s his fault and we should slice and dice him and hang him from the rafters because I kinda liked your dads. Captain fucking America! Idolized the shit outta that guy man. Did you see him back in the old days? He punched Hitler in the face!”

Peter ignored Wade’s rambles as he normally did when his mouth ran on. He didn’t want to hear about his father’s glory days before he was frozen. He wanted to mourn, to cry, to fight, to avenge…

“But now he’s dead. And so is your other daddy! Tell me Peter, how does it feel to be an orphan  _again_?”

Peter pulled against the restraints, rage dripping into his eyes as he glowered at Wade’s smirking face. He didn’t care how scarred Wade’s face already was, he was going to cut him up and mail all the pieces so far away that it would take weeks for him to even think about regrowing every single one of his limbs back.

“Mother and Father, dead. Uncle and Aunt, very dead. Daddy and Papa, incredibly dead. You’re all alone now Pete. Does that sound like the story of a superhero? Someone who can’t even protect their family? If you’re on our side, you wouldn’t have to protect anyone but yourself.”

Wade stared at him, provoking him with every word, every encouraging glance and exaggerated hand gesture. He was trying to get a rise out of Peter, any reaction other than glaring daggers into each one of Wade’s fleshy parts. But he wasn’t getting anywhere. No words of denial or agreement.

“If you had been a bad guy, maybe the deaths of your daddies would have been avoided. This whole situation wouldn’t have happened because who kidnaps the evil, out-casted son of two gay superheroes? Still nothing? What if we give you a reminder of what you caused? What if we replayed it? Yeah let’s do that. I’m going to go make popcorn, you wait here. Man that was so awesome and we get to see it again! Oh yeah, you’re right. Popcorn would take to long. We’d have to go steal the popcorn and then steal a microwave and then find a working outlet in this place or break into a place and kill the dudes living there to plug in the microwave. Wait three minutes for the corn to transform into fluffy white delicious buttery pop and come back here, press rewind and this would be going a lot faster if these words were divided into little yellow squares instead of stream of consciousness dialogue.”

“Wilson.” Peter growled, wishing he could bury his head in his hands, specifically his ears to cover the incessant babble of the lunatic.

Wade pushed Peter’s face away from him and strolled over to the controls. After fiddling with some dials and arguing with himself about the likelihood of the red button blowing them all up, the screens finally began playing the video from the exact moment Steve placed his hand on the door knob.

Peter cringed as he watched, unable to look away from the events already burned into his memory.

“See, as the fire practically consumes him.” The fire swept over Captain America’s frame before he was able to lift his shield, having no chance to block the sudden explosion. It threw him off balance and you could barely see the blue suit behind the flames as the next explosion was set off. Tears formed in Peter’s eyes as he listened to the screams that weren’t audible beneath the volume of the explosion.

“Fried Capsicle, does that cancel itself out? Wouldn’t he just be melted? Don’t matter now.” Wade shrugged and turned his attention back to the screen where Iron Man could now be seen diving for Captain America through the flames before an explosion intercepted his path, flinging him backwards into another bomb.

The sounds of short-circuiting and Tony’s cries for Steve filled Peter’s ears, all heard from previous battles because, like Steve’s cries, they could not be heard on the tape.

Wade chuckled happily as the flames began to dissipate, revealing the sad form of his father… the blue of the Captain America uniform almost entirely burnt off. His skin charred, body limp and eyes void.

“Definitely not melted, no. I’d say well done, maybe over cooked just a tad.” Peter’s rage intensified, eyes burning holes through Wade’s body as he shifted his gaze from his dead father to the enemy he desperately wanted to kill. Not beat up, not incarcerate-

“You look like you want to kill me, Petey.” Wade was now facing him, staring down at him as Peter scowled back with contempt. “But you can’t.” He flashed his classic, egotistical smirk at the young, restrained hero. “We both know you could chop me up and I’ll still come back. You could waste the rest of your life trying to put an end to my miserable life, killing me and waiting and killing me again. An endless party with your pal Deadpool.”

“Fuck you Wilson!” Peter snarled, hands eager to tear into his flesh, rip Wade’s arms off and beat him with them.

“But you know who you can kill?” The smirk faded into something more persuasive. “The person that paid me to kill your daddies.”

The camera was panning along the roof, the burning debris, the clouds of smoke, the broken pieces of the Mark VI Iron Man armor.

“Wanna know who is was?”

Peter’s heart clenched at the lifeless body trapped within the Iron Man armor that had punctured flesh. The light of the arc reactor, the only thing that was keeping his father’s heart running, slowly flickered out, casting the circular arc reactor in the center of the Iron Man suit into darkness before Wade paused the video feed. His eyes jumped over to Wade as he continued to speak, to convince him of the best course of action.

“Kraven the Hunter.”

Shock and realization rushed through Peter’s body as he lowered his head, eyes concentrated on the floor. Things were starting to fall into place and Peter wasn’t sure how he was supposed to be handling his emotions right now.

“Yeah,” Wade chuckled at Peter’s reaction. “Kraven. That chump who thinks he’s the best hunter in the world! He actually  _hired_  someone to do his hunting for him! I thought it was low even for him. To get so desperate to capture the itsy bitsy spider that he had to hire a mercenary. Pretty sad when you think about it. But it was him. He’s the reason your daddies are dead. And him, him you can actually kill. His blood you can spill and he won’t come back time and time again. Once is enough. Don’t you want to avenge your parents and see him dead?”

“No.” Peter muttered, his voice low but determined.

“What? Peter this is a chance of a life time. Either I help you escape or he comes here to finish the job and it won’t be as pretty and quick as your daddies deaths.”

“My parents aren’t dead…”

Wade’s eyebrow rose instantly as he shot Peter an concerned look. “You feelin’ okay buddy? I know their death was traumatizing but you gotta be past the denial stage by now.”

“They’re  _not_  dead.” He raised his head, staring Wade in the eyes with his own confident gaze.

Wade turned and pointed at the still frame of Iron Man’s broken body and fractured armor. “I don’t think you have a very good grasp of what happened on this tape. I’m looking at an incredibly dead Iron Man.”

“No Wade, you’re not seeing what I’m seeing.” Peter sat up straighter in the chair, tugging gently against his restraints. “That’s the Iron Man Mark VI.”

“Yes your Daddy has all kinds of armor made doesn’t he. Has he reached L yet?”

“The Mark VI has a triangular-shaped chest to protect the arc reactor. Not the circular one I’m looking at right now.”

Wade’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between the screen and the newly revived Spider-man.

“Someone messed up, didn’t they Wade?” Peter’s smug expression tore into the merc who was now at a loss. “Are you even Deadpool? I mean, you’ve gone this whole time without your mask on, the chimichangas long eaten. I know Wade trusts me but would he really ditch his mask for so long?”

Sudden displacement ran through Peter’s veins as the walls, the screen, the floor and his mercenary friend dissolved around him. He closed his eyes tightly to fight the dizziness that couldn’t be explained when the space surrounding him was now pitch black.

“ _…your fault!”_ A man growled angrily.

“ _One… detail … responsibility… Iron Man and Captain America … study…”_ A woman retorted.

The broken dialogue entered Peter’s mind as he tried to pry his eyes open, to hear everything that was being said, but simply struggling to stay conscious was becoming difficult.

“ _…brilliant plan… failed… portray Deadpool… throw him off…”_

“ _…work this time… we know… coming here… the others too…”_

“ _Already sent… part of your plan… Peter’s dead…”_

Peter groaned, he certainly didn’t feel dead but his mind was pulsing with pain, as though he was connected to something electrical that was zapping his brain anytime one of the voices of the bickering man and woman rose.

“ _Get on with it then!”_ The man snarled, although his voice was more compassionate, only angry out of frustration and fear.

Slowly, Peter was able to open his eyes and he found himself in what appeared to be a S.H.E.I.L.D. containment unit. Before him, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff were staring at him with smug expressions, as though happy to see that he was awake to finally realize the situation he was in.

“You were under heavy sedation.” Natasha informed him.

“I wonder, what kind of twisted things you imagined while you were under. Maybe it was exactly what we wanted you to see.” Barton smirked, the very same smirk he bore after he came out on top of a successful mission where he also made the enemy look like a pathetic tool.

Peter squinted at them, his expression clearly unimpressed. “Really this is the best you can do? Impersonating my aunt and uncle? Making me think that S.H.E.I.L.D. took me and wanted me to think Iron Man and their pride and joy Captain America died? Yeah I don’t think so hot stuff. You two were pretty desperate with Wade but this… this is just sad.”

The smirks of the accents faded as they stared at one another before the seams of the illusion fell apart around them. As the walls of the containment unit fell, those of a grimy and deserted office could be found behind them. The floor became a gray concrete covered in dust, and the chair he was strapped to was a regular wooden chair that he was sure could give him splinters if he struggled too much against it.

Two people, dressed entirely in black that did nothing to compliment their nearly translucent pale skin and greasy black hair, were in front of the desk before him. The woman sat on top of the desk, her blue eyes covered with purple eyeshadow that made her look as though she had been punched in both eyes. The man was leaning against it, his brown eyes much less composed than his counterpart after the tantrum he had thrown earlier.

“Hello, Peter Parker.” The woman cooed, although Peter could hear the subtle hints of irritation in her voice.

“The Gaines Twins, creepy-ass family psychics extraordinaire! Do me a solid and predict your futures because I definitely don’t see this working in your favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gaines Twins are villains from “Spider-Man: The New Animated Series” that resemble Mysterio. The one where Neil Patrick Harris voices Peter Parker. Go watch that shit. It’s awesome!


	6. Chapter 6

“There is no future where you live, Peter Parker.” Roxanne Gaines hissed confidently.

“That may be so.” Peter spoke with the calm frankness he’d inherited from his fathers and the smug sense of superiority specifically influenced by the Stark side of the family. “But my fathers aren’t dead and your plan failed.”

Roxanne smirked and gave her brother a nod. Roland stepped closer, his eyes burning brightly and Peter cringed as pain shot through his body and visions of his parents faked deaths flashed before his eyes… this time accompanied by Natasha and Clint in a sealed chamber filled with gas.

He gasped when he was pulled out of it, back in the chair and in the room with the twisted psychics.

“They’ll all die if Spider-Man doesn’t do what we want.”

Peter rose his head which had fallen from the shock of the trance, his eyes leveled with Roxanne’s. A wave of relief had rushed over him when she threatened their deaths, confirming that his parents were definitely alive.

“Your threats won’t work on me anymore. Using Deadpool was smart. That was definitely a good call on your part because I know he can get the job done. He’s resourceful and retarded enough to do anything and everything to get rid of a target. I had no doubts that Wade would be able to murder the Avengers if he put his mind to it. You two though… with your flimsy little hands couldn’t open a child safety pill bottle let alone hold a knife to Tony Stark’s throat.”

“Our minds are more powerful than any common weapon your precious family could create.” Roxanne growled, irritation rising in her voice. “Together, my brother and I could manipulate you into killing your fathers if we wanted.”

“See… I thought about that and that doesn’t seem possible. If you could do that… why go through all the trouble of convincing me that Wade killed my parents? You had to invoke something real in me and actually convince me that what I was seeing was true. There is no scheme you could create in my mind that would ever make me want to kill my parents.”

“But you felt it! Inside the illusion you wanted nothing more than to murder Wade Wilson.”

“Oh yeah. Me hating Wade and wanting to kill him for the horrible things he does… especially killing the two most important people in my life… not that difficult. The other thing though… is that without being able to focus my murderous rage on Wade, who clearly wouldn’t die no matter how many times I tried… you gave me a new target. Kraven the Hunter?”

“Kraven is the reason our parents are dead.” Roland snarled, venom dripping from every word. “He caused the torment and death of our parents… which also gave us the powers my sister and I possess.”

“And we will use these powers to destroy him.”

“Really roundabout way though. And Spider-Man? Why do you need me? What’s the big deal with having Wade turn me evil? Use me as your personal flying monkey to do your dirty work? Convincing me that each one of your enemies had some hand in killing my parents? And what would keep me from seeing the real Iron Man and Captain America? For brilliant minds you guys lacked foresight.”

Peter could see the calm and collected nature, the confidence the siblings had in their plans, slowly peal away from their expressions. The brother’s agitation was more prevalent than his sister, however.

“So who’s bright idea was it? Couldn’t have been you, huh tough guy? You’re clearly not the brains or the brawns of the operation.”

Roland growled, showing his teeth and filling Peter’s mind with images of torture. The young hero screamed as he felt a machete hack away at his arms. His breathing was ragged when he was pulled out of the vision and back to reality where he fidgeted his arms as much as possible to make sure they were still there.

“Clever. Too bad that won’t do any permanent damage. I mean, you made me think my dads were dead and I’m already over it now. Cutting off my arms in my imagination? Yeah I’ve seen it before.”

Peter wouldn’t mention that the images of his fathers would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life, probably causing him to wake up from his dreams in cold sweats, screaming out for his parents. It would be like childhood all over again when Peter would crawl into bed with his fathers, knowing they would keep the shadows at bay.

“This is all your fault! None of your plans have worked!” Roland turned on his sister who covered her shock and hurt with as much anger, trying not to appear divided in front of the hostage.

“It was the first plan! We can try again! Stop throwing a tantrum and think clearly! We can do this brother, our minds are more powerful than his.”

“He’s already shown resistance! He knows what it’s like and who we are! There’s no taking him by surprise this time! You should have come up with a better plan!”

“It’s too late for that now, isn’t it? Maybe if the stupid spider had a girlfriend or some mortal, defenseless person in his life we could have used them! But all he has is super hero fathers and the rest of the bloody Avengers team!”

“And Wade. Don’t forget him. I mean, sure it’s not like I have him by choice or anything but he’s also pretty unbeatable just like the rest-”

“Silence!” Roxanne hissed, her eyes corrupting Peter’s mind until he cringed, locking his jaw against the pain.

“Brother, don’t you see he’s only provoking us! But it won’t work, will it? We’re stronger than him.”

Roland gritted his teeth but sighed all the same. “Yes, you’re right sister. I apologize.”

“Good. Now… If we can no longer use the spider, we’ll have to  _dispose_ of him.” Roxanne emphasized her meaning by intensifying her gaze, plunging Peter into a realm of darkness and pain that he struggled to free himself from. He was starting to get the hang of fighting their powers but the sister was the more powerful. She could make him believe everything for one instant before he could start fighting again, and even then the voices of the twins sounded far off in the distance.

“What? But if we kill him the dummy illusion will be broken.”

“True, we’ve already convinced the assassins that he’s dead and they’ve no doubt reported to the fathers. Which is why we haven’t had any trouble yet. The plan to make them believe he was dead so he could do our biding in a more… conservative manner has been ruined.”

“Sister, when the dummy turns back they’ll come here and look for the real body! We cannot fight all the Avengers at once!”

“Nonsense. We won’t be fighting them…” Peter heard footsteps, lighter which meant Roxanne was moving across the room. The sound of a door opened and a muffled voice and struggling could be heard. “He will.”

“Perfect…” Roland agreed.

“Peter Parker will be dead. The Avengers will think our little friend here was the cause. And we’ll be free to pursue other methods to avenge our parents.”

“Now that sounds like a plan. Shall I do the honors?”

“By all means, brother.”

The sadistic laughter of the twins was cut off by an explosive sound to Peter’s right. What felt like pieces of the wall pelted against his face as he tried to regain his awareness of the space around him. The familiar charging sound of repulsors echoed through the air and the cries of the twins followed. The distraction was enough to force Roxanne out of his mind and Peter blinked through his blurred vision.

“Peter, are you all right?” A sigh of relief escaped Peter as he stared at the real Iron Man suit which meant his father was inside and Pop was somewhere close, also alive.

“Dad!”

Peter didn’t see the pistol being pulled from its holster, or hear the trigger mechanism cock the gun, but he did feel the bullet drive deep into his body. Agony tore through his veins as he cried out.

“Peter!” Tony raised his hand, aimed at the head of the male twin but before he could fire, the door burst open and Natasha took out Roland’s legs from beneath him. With a quick hit to the temple and a hand wrapped dangerously around his throat, she pinned the barely conscious man to the ground. Clint and Steve followed shortly. Both with weapons raised at the woman now huddled into the corner, glaring wildly as she searched for an escape route that didn’t reveal itself. Iron Man’s missiles were locked on her location, the lights of the helmet’s eyes staring her down.

Her eyes flashed and Iron Man stumbled, landing on the ground as he shook his head of the images she implanted. Taking this opportunity, Roxanne ran for the broken wall Tony had blasted in but two arrows had her pinned to the wall in an instant, she struggled desperately before the arrows emitted an electric shock that pulsed through her body. She shook, eyes fluttering, before she fell unconscious to the floor.

“How… how did you…” Roland coughed from beneath Black Widow. “Know it wasn’t him?”

Natasha’s eyes were deadly as she stared down at the man she wanted to murder. “Peter has a cut behind his right ear from when we were sparring the other day. Missed that on the dummy.”

Pulling her arm back, she punched Roland with enough force to knock him out completely and probably give him some concussive damage as well.

From the chair, Peter coughed, trying to regain his breath that wasn’t returning to him.

“Son!” Steve had rushed to his side, shield abandoned on the floor, hands hastily making work of the ropes that restrained him. The last of the knots were undone and Peter started to fall forward, before the Captain could shift to the other side of the chair, Tony was there to hold him up. His mind still shaky, evident in his eyes that were shifting wildly as they tried to grasp reality again.

Peter smiled softly as he gazed at his Dad through half-lidded eyes. With the Iron Man helmet tossed aside, it was just his Dad… staring at him with more concern Peter hadn’t seen since he’d taken his first fall from that thirty story building. Steve was now in view, hands examining the bullet wound. The Captain America mask had been pulled off and his eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to be overjoyed that Peter was there, in his arms, or terrified at the chance of losing him again, just when they’d gotten him back.

“Pop… Dad… I’m so glad you’re alive.” Tears started to fill his eyes as he choked out the words. Relief flooded Peter’s injured body, temporarily flushing out the visions of death he’d been plagued with.

“Why? Didn’t think we could handle a simple rescue mission?” Tony joked, though Peter could see the tears building up behind his eyes and the restraint in his voice to keep himself together.

“I… had my doubts. Ugh…” Peter gasped, feeling the pain of the bullet that was lodged in his shoulder. Tony and Steve leaned forward and behind them, Clint and Natasha who were watching eagerly stepped closer as the sound of Peter’s distressed voice. “I’m okay… didn’t hit my heart… or lung… we’re good…”

Tony’s lip quirked into a smirk and Peter could tell he wanted to pull his son into his arms and squeeze him, but that would be painful considering he was still wearing the Iron Man armor.

“I’ll be sure to make the Spider-Man suit more bullet proof when we get home.”

“Yeah… let’s… can we go home, right now?”

Steve chuckled, moving closer to scoop Peter up into his arms. Peter groaned at the movement but happily clung to his father like a child would after scraping their knee on the sidewalk and wanting nothing more than the comfort of their father’s arms.

“And skip the fun hospital visit to remove that bullet? I don’t think so.”

“Ugh… Pop that’s not fair…”

“I could do it instead.” Natasha looked up, she had finished putting the restraints on Roland and had now moved to Roxanne, detaining them before the authorities arrived.

“Tasha that’s not funny.” Clint turned, retrieving the arrows from Roxanne’s shoulder and leg. “We both know I’d do a much better job and Peter would get a great scar out of it.”

Peter’s eyes widened before he glanced up at his Pop. “So hospital, huh?”

Both fathers shook their heads in amusement as Steve carried their son out of the room, Tony staying incredibly close as Peter did not seem to want him out of his sight. The two assassins followed them, Clint holding the Iron Man helmet and Natasha tucking Captain America’s mask into her belt.

“Just promise to never get out of our sight again.” Natasha warned, though her voice was content now that they had him back.

“Oh I don’t think I’ll be running out any time soon.” Peter smiled, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder and wanting to close his eyes and rest but unable to keep his eyes off the very  _alive_  faces of his parents.

The door closed behind them as sirens filled the street below. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were known for their promptness and they would have the twins dealt with in no time.

“Uh… guys!” Wade had finally chewed through the tape that had been wrapped several times around his head to keep his mouth shut and was calling out from the closet, trying in vain to shuffle out into the room. “Not gonna leave your good pal Deadpool here are you? …. Peter?”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://arrafrost.tumblr.com/)


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